


Under Your Spell

by goddessofcruelty



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Nemeton, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rare Pairings, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-06 17:49:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3143171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddessofcruelty/pseuds/goddessofcruelty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Duuuude. Come on. We are so not getting naked.” Alan just looks at him blandly and Stiles hangs his head. “Is it too late to change my mind about being a druid?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under Your Spell

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Stiles/Deaton - the nemeton

“Have you ever heard the term 'sky-clad', Stiles?”

Stiles wrinkles up his nose. “Duuuude. Come on. We are so not getting naked.”

Alan just looks at him blandly and Stiles hangs his head. “Is it too late to change my mind about being a druid?”

Dr. Deaton doesn't dignify that with an answer and instead starts unbuttoning his lab coat.

“Whoa, dude, are we getting naked now?”

Alan represses a sigh. “Not until we get to the Nemeton, Stiles.”

“Wait, why do we have to go _there_?” Stiles furrows a brow. “And why do we have to get _naked_ again?”

“See if you can figure it out on the drive.”

Stiles narrows his eyes and mumbles to himself as he helps his mentor load the van. He can't help his mind from turning the questions over though, eventually coming to the easy conclusion that they need to be close to the Nemeton to make sure the spell is effective, and the more difficult conclusion that they have to remove any possible outside influence on their person so that nothing interferes with their attempt.

Stiles doesn't say anything to Alan, but he can see the hint of a smirk playing about the vet's lips that says he knows that Stiles has come up with the correct answers on his own. Stiles seethes a bit as he pulls the duffels from the back of the vehicle, and then jumps a mile and nearly drops them when Alan lays a hand on his shoulder.

“Whoa, doc,” Stiles exclaims and Alan looks silently into his eyes a long moment.

“The Nemeton is powerful, Stiles. It will take any negative emotion and reinforce it. You must not let it find any.”

 _Easier said than done_ , Stiles thinks, but nods and continues making preparations. When everything's set, Deaton gives Stiles a significant glance and the younger man sighs. “Naked time?”

Deaton's expression doesn't change but Stiles gets the impression that the doc doesn't approve of his levity. That's not anything particularly new to him.

Alan pulls out a flask, and takes a long swig, wordlessly hand it to Stiles. He doesn’t hesitate, figuring it to be something for the spell.

Turns out it's some liquid courage and Stiles' eyes go wide and he splutters as Deaton's gaze turns to one of mild amusement, before it returns to its normal blandness.

“Dude, the fuck?” Stiles grumbles, but Alan takes another drink and arches one eyebrow ever so slightly.

“You'll need it,” is all he says before capping the flask, and then he sets it aside and reaches for his sweater, tugging it off over his head and folding it to the side. Alan's left in a white tank top, and apparently the vet works out, because he's got some guns hiding out underneath there, and _no – we are not having those kind of thoughts while we're about to get naked, Stiles._

Stiles shakes his head to dispel the thoughts and turns his back as he, too, begins to disrobe. He doesn't fold them neatly like Alan, his get crunched and stuffed into his duffel uncaringly.

Stiles braces himself and turns around, arms crossed, defiant in his nervousness, but Alan’s back is turned and he's crouching over a bowl where he is mixing something.

Stiles allows himself a moment to look, simply out of curiosity, of course, and discovers that what he's always thought was a bulky middle-aged thickness, was simply bulky clothes hiding an athletic body. There's not an ounce of fat on the vet, and Stiles gets oddly entranced by the muscles of the doc's ass flexing as he moves and – _dammit, stop thinking about it._

Deaton finishes what he's doing and scoops his hands in the bowl, sprinkling the mixture over himself, and then rises, calmly padding over to Stiles as if both their junks weren't hanging out flapping in the breeze. And Stiles gets an eyeful in spite of himself as Alan sprinkling the same thing over him, murmurs the cleansing ritual as Stiles automatically looks down to keep from getting the herbed water in his eyes.

Yeah, the doc's _packing_ and Stiles wonders how it looks erect, how it would feel on his tongue, pushing inside him – _no, no he's not, he's thinking about snow and ice, dammit._

Alan then turns to sprinkling the stuff of all the things they will take with them into the circle.

Soon the cleansing is over and they can move on, and Stiles follows Alan to the top of the Nemeton, climbing up onto the stump with his mentor. Stiles doesn't have to know too much for this, Deaton's doing all the hard work, he just has to open his mind as a conduit for the older man. That hardest part is going to be to keep himself on task, focused on the spell, and not distracted by anything else.

Sitting on the wood with nothing between the hard surface and his ass is mildly uncomfortable, but it serves as a pretty good focus for him, and Stiles is able to open his magic to Deaton without any difficulty.

The first thing the vet does is set the circle, sprinkling the special blend of wolfsbane, mountain ash, and silver, and then sparking it into place. Very few supernatural creatures could get through that barrier.

Then Deaton takes his spot opposite from Stiles, showing no discomfort at his skin pressing into the cold, hard wood. He sets the brazier between them and lights it, adding herbs and substances from the small bag he's brought in with them, and soon Stiles feels the disorientation of the higher plane.

He stays in place to guard the way back, as Alan stalks forward to the image of the Nemeton before them, and goes to battle with it, wielding a flaming sword that cuts off certain roots, those that glow with the black-green of dark magic.

All too soon, Stiles loses sight of his mentor as the sneaky tree tries to close their way home, and he's in a battle with tendrils that glow with that same ugly shade. He finds himself smashing them with a baseball bat of flames, and even amidst battling for his soul, Stiles finds time to be amused about the situation.

Gradually the tendrils decrease in frequency and Stiles has a moment to look up and see his mentor slices a handful clean through and then stand upright, looking around as no more attack him. Then he lifts his sword and plunges the flaming point right into the heart of the Nemeton.

There's a keening noise that Stiles realizes he's hearing _in his head_ , and then a blast of energy rushes through him, and Stiles has just enough time to realize that Deaton's cock is thick and heavy as the older man turns to face him.

Stiles doesn't know how he got there, but suddenly he's in Alan's arms, and he's never been this horny in his life – and that's saying a lot for Stiles – and he feels like he could come with a single touch. But somehow he doesn't, holds back as Alan's lips crush down onto his, the doc's eyes glowing with the same kind of energy that he feels churning inside him.

Even as Deaton's tongue invades his mouth, Stiles feels licked fingers rubbing at his entrance and the sensation is overwhelming, best things he's ever felt, and Stiles pushes back, bearing down to get those fingers inside him.

Alan obliges and fucks Stiles on his fingers while his tongue does the same to the younger man's mouth and he's so very close when Deaton pulls away. Stiles clutches for him but the vet is simply laying him down on his back. And Stiles can feel the smooth white floor beneath him, while at the same time, the rough wood of the Nemeton's stump, and then he loses the thought as Alan's finger – three now- push into him once more.

Stiles is so lost in his bliss that he doens't notice the cocdom that Alan has rolled on himself until the older man is sliding home, and something in his mind tells him he ought be bothered by the way Deaton seems to have been prepared for this. But then Alan's clever fingers find his nipples, and all thought flees from his mind as the doc alternates thrusting into him, and tugging on those sensitive nipples, until Stiles is on the very cusp of orgasm.

Alan hunches over Stiles, leans in to rolls another onto Stiles, and he's pretty sure that's a little weird, but once it's on, Deaton starts fucking him in earnest, and he finds the will to object flitting away.

Stiles feels the large hand wrap around his dick, and that's all it takes before he's shooting off, filling the condom with his come, and it's harder – and more – than he's ever come in his life, and Stiles black out just as he feels Alan's final thrusts and the pulsing of the thickness inside him.

-

When Stiles wakes up, he's cleaned and dressed, and lying his own bed, and it takes him a half-second to remember, and then he sits up fast, startling Scott, who falls out of the computer chair he'd been sitting it.

“Dude, you okay?” Scott's eyes are wide. “Doctor Deaton said you passed out during a spell.”

Stiles shifts and winces as he feels the soreness in his ass. “Yeah, it was...intense.”

Scott nods and gets up. “Anyway, he said just to make sure you woke up and I kind of have a date with Kira, so you all good?”

Stiles nods and falls backwards once more, contemplating his ceiling. “Yeah, Scotty, I'm good.”

Scott's halfway through the window before Stiles finishes, and never hears the telltale double thump of his heart that gives away the lie.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if I need to tag anything.
> 
> Come say hi on [Tumblr](goddessofcruelty.tumblr.com)


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